


Pining

by InsaneSociopath



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Bad™, CHAPTER TWO TAGS:, Can you tell?, Chris calls himself an idiot a lot, Chris is a big gay dork, Chris wants those abs, Ed writes smut, Frottage, I'm not good at tagging, Jim is smooth af, M/M, That's it., and that D, is also valid, that's the only relevant tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneSociopath/pseuds/InsaneSociopath
Summary: Chris has the most fucking dumb and inappropriate crush in this galactic sector and it's genuinely going to be the death of him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Even I have no idea what this is.  
> If you know, please let me know lol

“No.”

Chris says the word sternly, letting no trace of concession into his voice.

“Okay,” Kirk replies affably.

Chris blinks.

“…Okay?” he asks cautiously, shocked at the too easy agreement.

“Yeah, okay,” Kirk shrugs unconcerned. “You said no, so I’ll stay on campus this weekend. No big deal.”

“Okay good,” Chris frowns.

“Yeah it is”

“Yes it is. Very good. Excellent. Outstanding in fact.”

Kirk stares at him like he’s grown an extra head.

Chris tries not to die on the inside of embarrassment. Tells himself silently and sternly to _stop fucking rambling nonsensically, you tool._

“…Are you okay sir?” Kirk asks, still watching him with obvious concern.

“Yes cadet. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kirk looks like he wants to answer that question, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Don’t you have classes to attend Kirk?” Chris eventually continues when the awkward silence drags on beyond all reason. “Or were you planning in loitering in my office all day?”

“Captain, it’s after five on Friday evening…?”

And oh shit, so it is.

“Um. Maybe you should go home then? Or- or go for a drink at that bar you like….”

Kirk’s concerned-face worsens.

“Sir you just asked me to stay on campus this weekend? That bar is in town…?”

 _For fuck sake Christopher!_ He scolds himself again. _Think before you gabble nonsense!_

“Oh so I did,” he mutters red faced.

Stars above, he’s nearly fifty years old dammit!

This stupid inappropriate crush on the kid is actually going to be the death of him!

* * *

Six months.

That’s all it’s been since he walked into that bar in Riverside and pulled Kirk’s battered body off of that table.

Six months since he laid his eyes on the young man for the first time and his brain quietly made a considering noise.

Six _fucking long_ months.

Not that he recognised the crush for what it was at first. It just sort of… crept up on him until one morning at breakfast two and a half months ago, he was sat eating a raspberry muffin on his own and he found himself grinning stupidly and his stomach fluttering just because Kirk had sent him a generic confirmation message regarding attendance paperwork for a short survival course.

_“Ex-C 01 Paperwork submitted @07:03.”_

That’s literally all it had said.

Quite possibly the most mundane message in existence. But it had set his heart racing with joy, because _Kirk_ had sent it. To _him!_

Before that, Chris had just presumed he was sort of distantly fond of the kid and nothing more. Well, maybe ‘distantly’ isn’t quite the right word given that he’d actively gone out of his way to help the young man out several times.

(Just with small stuff you know… like nagging/bullying/pleading with academy professors to get them to allow Kirk to test out of their classes early. And meddling with the Finance Department to ensure that Kirk got the maximum allowable stipend. And quietly changing Kirk’s dorm assignment so that he was with the postgrads of his age instead of the fresh-faced eighteen year olds. And getting him a free city-transport pass. And-)

But that’s all he’d thought about it.

Just a dude helping out his younger dude friend in a friendly dude manner.

_Hahahahahahahahahaaa_

Yeah right.

* * *

* * *

Its not about looks.

Sure, Kirk has vivid blue eyes that embody everything about the old cliché “window to the soul”. And sure, his hair is softer than the fur of a tribble (Chris knows this from that time in the cadet mess hall when he found the kid covered in glitter and was “helping” him get it off before his next class…shutup, he _knows_ that’s creepy). And yeah, he’s got chiselled abs and well built shoulders and the face of an ange- _the face of a slightly above average person, shut up brain._

But it’s not about looks.

* * *

No really, _its not!_

* * *

Okay, maybe a little.

But it’s mostly about the surprisingly shy, eager to please and be helpful personality that hides behind the brash façade. 

Chris hadn’t been expecting it.

He should know from so many years of travelling in the black and dealing with species and races of all kinds that first impressions rarely give even a portion of the full picture. But for some reason, he was still surprised by how different Kirk was from his expectations.

When he’d followed Kirk onto the shuttle at the Riverside shipyard, he’d seen the kid smack his head on the low beam, shaken his head in mirth, and then not thought about him again until he was touching down the shuttle in the Academy shuttle hanger.

Of course once they were disembarking from the shuttle, Chris had no choice but to concentrate solely on Kirk. But gone was the brash and bold young man from the bar, and the smug rebel-wonnabe from the shipyard this morning.

In his place stood a polite, aimable young man who radiated quiet confidence with only a minimal trace of arrogance.

Chris had been shocked by the sudden and obvious change as they walked together over to the Academy’s main Admin building. Shocked and slightly suspicious.

How long was it going to last? He’d kept asking himself.

And where had this unexpected personality transplant come from?

* * *

Oddly-sensible Kirk is the predominate personality setting for Kirk.

Thank god.

* * *

Chris _prefers_ oddly-sensible-Kirk for the most part.

Largely because oddly-sensible-Kirk still manages to be mind-bogglingly spontaneous at the most unexpected times.

And yeah, it sometimes makes a few (cough, _a lot of…_ ) people upset, confused and angry when he does something so _completely off the wall_ that their hindbrains start screaming "Danger! Unknown! Scary! Aghhhh!”. But well, Chris _did_ recruit him because he was the Leap Without Looking type, so he can hardly complain when the young man does exactly that.

So yes, Chris _prefers_ oddly-sensible-Kirk.

Most of the time.

* * *

Sometimes arrogant, cocky, almost-narcissistic Kirk is hilarious though.

Especially when it ends badly for the lad, or he just generally makes a fool of himself. Because then his embarrassed or sulky or upset face is usually adorabl- _no!_

* * *

Okay honestly?

All of that was a complete lie.

Kirk is actually 80% pain in the ass, 15% tolerable, and only 5% oddly-sensible. Predominantly oddly-sensible-Kirk only exists in Chris’ dreams and moments of wishful thinking. It is only by the skin of his high-grades-covered teeth, that James T Kirk has not gotten himself kicked out of the Academy yet.

Kirk is a total fucking _menace._

One who argues with officers, cadets, professors and admirals alike, flirts with everything vaguely sentient, hacks files he has no business knowing even exist, steals food and booze (mainly from Chris himself), rewires consoles without permission, gets into fist fights at least once a fortnight, and only ever attempts to sort-of behave when Chris skips annoyed, angry _and_ disappointed, and jumps straight to weary resignation. 

 

But only Chris’ brain will listen to these facts.

Despite his best efforts, his heart decidedly does not give a shit.

* * *

* * *

Anyway, he’s gotten hilariously sidetracked.

The current problem is that he’s forty-eight heading forty-nine. Kirk is twenty-two.

And he’s sat in his office with said twenty-two year old, tripping over his own tongue while his heart races and his hands want to make grabby motions.

He’s so totally _fucked._

* * *

“…Are you okay sir?” Kirk asks, still watching him with obvious concern.

“Yes cadet. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kirk looks like he wants to answer that question, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Don’t you have classes to attend Kirk?” Chris eventually continues when the awkward silence drags on beyond all reason. “Or were you planning in loitering in my office all day?”

“Captain, it’s after five on Friday evening…?”

And oh shit, so it is.

“Um. Maybe you should go home then? Or- or go for a drink at that bar you like….”

Kirk’s concerned-face worsens.

“Sir you just asked me to stay on campus this weekend? That bar is in town…?”

 _For fuck sake Christopher!_ He scolds himself again. _think before you gabble nonsense!_

“Oh so I did,” he mutters red faced.

“Yeah…” Kirk drawls, amused. “You did.”

“Indeed.” 

_Fuck fuck fuck why is he looking at me like that!?_

_Stars, he can probably read every one of my inappropriate feelings right off my face!_

Kirk licks his lips as the silence drags once more, and Chris’ entire brain threatens to explode as his eyes track the tip of the young man’s tongue.

_Oh god I just wonna push him against a wall and-_

_NO!_

“....Hey Captain? Can I go off campus to that bar for that drink if you come with me sir?” Kirk asks with a knowing smirk. "I'll be... _very well behaved_ if I have you supervising me...

And like a fool, Chris says yes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled "Chris has a big gay existential crisis"

_Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot…_

Chris has been thinking that word on loop for the last two hours. It’s aimed at himself. 

_Why did I say yes? Why? I’m such a fucking idiot!_

The bar that Kirk has dragged him too is not quite as loud and dive-like as Chris had been fearing, but it’s definitely an establishment that predominately aims to cater to youthful 20-somethings. There are mirrors on most of the walls, the tables and bar are made of some sleek, silvery metal, and the floor has that tacky-sticky feel caused by too many split drinks mixed with various grimace-worthy bodily fluids.

Even in the civvies Kirk had insisted he change into, Chris stands out like a sore thumb. 

And _god._

Getting into these civvies had been an ordeal all by itself. 

_Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot…_

They’re not his, they’re Kirk’s. 

Ending up wearing the kid’s clothes had not been the plan when he’d half-heartedly agreed to stop off at kid’s dorm on their way off campus. He’d just thought Kirk wanted to drop off his study bag containing his work Padds and data chips. _Not_ casually start stripping off right in front of him and rifling through his wardrobe. Chris’ eyes had about bugged out of his head at the lad’s undershirt had come off, because rumours of the shapeliness of his abs were _not_ overexaggerated.

And then, when Chris finally thought his gormless staring had somehow miraculously slipped by unnoticed and they could finally go out and get the night over with, Kirk had hummed in a considering manner and started _holding his shirts up against Chris’ chest too._

He had put on the tight white V neck tee Kirk had eventually handed him though, because idiotic and inappropriate or not, Chris’ downstairs brain wasn’t about to let an opportunity to wear his crushes clothes pass on by.

_Stupid fucking idiotic pathetic idiot childish loser idiot idiot idiot idiot…_

_He has a fucking crush! Like a hormonal teenage wreck!_

So here he is. 

In a pair of jeans that aren’t his, a top that’s tighter than anything he’s worn since he was seventeen and thought he was cool, and a pair of vintage-style lace up military boots that are a size too big and have necessitated wearing three pairs of socks. 

Several times, he’s started typing out an SOS message to his friends. _Please come rescue me before I do something even more stupid!_ But every time, he’s swallowed hard as his finger hovers over the _send to all_ button and then discarded it, choosing to desperately glug more beer instead.

Yup. He’s a human disaster and he knows it.

The song changes again, and Kirk suddenly glides off the dancefloor towards where he’s sat at the end of the bar. Chris’ eyes can’t help but trail up the young man’s body, noticing the glistening sheen coating his skin, the way his chest his heaving with exertion, and how his face is lit up with an easy, confident grin. 

Chris tears his eyes away and he fumbles for his pint again.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Kirk winks at him as he slides smoothly onto the barstool next to him. The lad’s elbow drops on to the bar, and then his cheek comes to rest in his palm, his gaze open and inviting.

“We literally came in together,” Chris stutters, trying to pull his wits into some semblance of order. 

_Idiot, idiot, idiot, IDIOT, IDIOT…_

“Which is why I came to make sure you’re still alright,” Kirk smiles, eyes shining. “Not very gracious of me to ask you out here and then abandon you at the bar to drink on your lonesome.”

“I’m okay,” Chris mumbles as he scratches self-consciously at his right sideburn. “You came here to have fun, not have your boss stumbling round uselessly after you.” 

“ _We_ came here so we could _both_ have fun,” Kirk refutes mildly, that stupid stupid _stupid_ dopey grin out in full force once again.

_Must not grab him, must not grab him, must not… God he’s so adorable!_

“…So what do you say?” Kirk continues, Chris realising he completely missed the first half of the sentence, too lost in staring at Kirk’s lips. 

“Huh?”

“I said,” Kirk chuckles, leaning closer ( _fuck,_ he even smells good…) “You should come dance with me sir.”

“Oh. Oh!” Chris stumbles out embarrassed. “No its… I’m okay here. Dancing’s not my… you just go have fun.”

“Well let me buy you another drink at least,” the young man chuckles easily, his fingers tapping on his cheekbone.

“I’ve already had too many,” Chris grumbles embarrassed. “Anymore and I’ll skip from tipsy to actual drunk.”

“I best catch up then,” Kirk grins again, another wink slipping his way before he turns and flags down the barman. “Can’t have you getting hammered alone!”

* * *

Kirk is dancing again.

Chris has another beer.

There’s some girl gyrating against Kirk’s back, movements fluid and practiced. Every now and again her hands slide down over him, trailing down from his raised hands to his knees in one smooth flow.

Kirk is allowing it but staring right at Chris, eyes hooded and his body language inviting.

He’s aware of the girl, but his attention is all on him.

_Oh heck, fuck, no, god, fuck, no…._

Chris downs the rest of his pint in panic.

* * *

The crowd parts smoothly around him, and Chris gulps in the hot sticky air as he slides up to Kirk with single minded purpose. 

His fingers trail across the young man’s hips and stomach as he steps right into his personal space, their breath mingling. A hand settles on his back for an instance as their chests touch, moving to his shoulder and then his arm and then onwards in quick succession. 

Chris leans forward until his nose is millimetres from Kirk’s cheek.

He breathes it all in as they move sinuously to the beat together.

* * *

“We should go,” Kirk says into his ear quietly. “You’re a lot more drunk than I thought you’d get.”

“Mmm,” Chris hums, turning his head to rest his cheek on the front of Kirk’s shoulder. 

There are arms around him, holding him close as they still sway slowly to the music. 

Chris knows he’s drunk, but he really, really doesn’t care right now.

_Everything is perfect._

“Come on, let’s go find some cheap takeaway to sober you up with.”

“Oh my god, I love food so much,” Chris grins happily.

* * *

* * *

When he wakes, he’s not in his own bed. 

And his head is _absolutely fucking killing._

“Woah, woah, don’t try to get up yet,” someone says, their cool hand like bliss on his forehead. “I’ve got some hangover hypos stashed somewhere, give me a minute.”

“S’at?” he rasps, slamming his eyes back shut when the daylight tries to burn its way into his shrivelled soul. 

“You’re in my dorm sir. Kicked my roommate out and gave you his bed. I did ask you where _your _accommodation is, but you weren’t making a lot of sense by that point and I wasn’t going to abandon you in the bush you wanted to sleep in.”__

Wait.

_Wait._

Is that _Kirk?_

Oh fucking shit!

_IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!_

* * *

Chris has no idea why he’s still here.

What he should have done when he woke up enough to at least _fake_ being a functional human being, is grab the uniform he’d discarded last night and run for the fucking hills. Or called Number One or Boyce, admit that he’d been an gigantic fucking idiot and ask them to come rescue his sorry ass. 

Hell, even asking _Spock_ to come get him would be more sensible than continuing _this._

( _This_ being sitting on the far corner of Kirk’s roommate’s bed against the wall in just his boxers, hugging his knees and clinging to a bottle of water like his life depends on it.)

But no. 

Instead he’s staring. At Kirk. Who’s also in just his boxers. Lying on his own bed tapping away at a Padd seemingly without a care in the world. Chris doesn’t actually feel too bad now, Kirk’s hypos actually having been pretty effective. But no.

He’s still sat here staring like an idiot.

“So do you think I should opt for Ethics of tactical negotiations or Intermediate Federation law?” Kirk suddenly asks, apropos of nothing.

“Depends,” Chris grunts back on autopilot. “If DuBassey is teaching Fed Law then go for Ethics. Otherwise do the Law module now and pick up Ethics next year.”

“How do I tell which professor is taking the class then?”

“Open the module overview. Top left.”

“Can’t see it.”

“Beneath the nav bar menu tab.”

“There’s nothing there!”

“Oh for-” Chris sighs, rolling his eyes upwards. “Come here and I will point right at it.”

And oh oops.

As Kirk grins and bounds over Chris suddenly realises that’s probably _exactly_ what Kirk wanted him to say. The prefect excuse for him to come sit far too close.

And yup. Leaning right into his side and holding the Padd far too close for either of them to properly see the screen. 

“It’s right there,” Chris cracks, restraining a full body shiver as Kirk’s warm breath skitters along his cheek and his body presses against him. His hand tremors the once as he points at the name. _DeBassey._

“Oh so it is,” Kirk smirks lowly, his voice seemingly having dropped two entire octaves. “Guess I’d better choose Ethics for next term then.”

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck he’s so close…_

_DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT CHRISTOPHER!_

“Yeah. That would be.” He swallows loudly. “Sensible.”

_Oh Jesus he’s looking right at me! Calm the fuck down!_

“I’m going to kiss you now sir.”

“Okay,” Chris squeaks.

* * *

Hands.

On his arms, sweeping down his chest, nails grazing lightly over his bare thighs.

He sighs as a hot mouth find the pulse point on the side of neck, not biting, not even sucking. Just laving his skin and leaving a damp trail of heat in its wake. He shudders at the hint of teeth that follow, and his head drops back onto the wall behind him with a dull thump.

Chris’ own hands come up, palms skating over the expanse of flesh before him, over toned shoulders and down the ridge of Jim’s spine. 

He’s Jim now suddenly, in Chris’ head.

Nothing more, nothing less, as those lips trail up towards his ear and fingers skim up towards his nipples, brushing over them feather light. 

_“James,”_ Chris groans at the bolt that sears through his core as that brush becomes a tweak. So maybe he’s that too. Jim. James. Both. 

_Perfect._

“Mmm _Chris,”_ Jim groans back, reverence in his tone as he slides downwards and those skilled fingers are replaced with hot warmth. 

Chris bucks helplessly.

What little rational thought remained goes out the window, and Chris whines as he lets himself be guided flat onto his back. Weight settles on his hips, a solid presence that both pins him physically and grounds him in the here and now. 

“Please,” he begs as that mouth moves away and one hand crawls over his boxers and down the side of his thigh. 

“Look at me,” in a soft voice. And oh, Chris has closed his eyes, sensation crawling over him and burrowing deep into his core. Chris obeys.

_Lips._

Searing.

Burning.

He kisses back helpless, gasps for breath as he moves sensuously, touching, feeling, taking. Cotton remains trapped between them, but Chris can’t help but _feel_ anyway. 

“Can I-” Jim stutters above him, eyelids flickering, clearly overwhelmed as he shakes. “Please, I want- can I-”

“Yes,” Chris gasps.

He drowns in the word.

That one, _endless_ word.

And then.

And then _oh…_

The cotton is gone and skin meets more skin. Chris’ mind wipes blank, awareness lost in the roar of pure desire that crashes through him. 

His eyes stay open, drinking in Jim’s soul through his impossibly blue irises. 

And then there are fingers, that _hand again._ Wrapped around them both, exploring, caressing, learning.

“Jim,” Chris sobs again as he sinks into the sensation, pushing against it, craving more. 

“Feels so good,” Jim moans back, breath hitching. “Amazing. You’re amazing.”

There’s a rhythm developing between them now, and Jim’s teeth clack back against his. Chris surges into the kiss with everything he has, nails scritching over Jim’s hip as his own hand searches out the heat between them. He grips over Jim’s hand, palm slicking as he squeezes, desperate for more friction. More pressure.

 _More._

It’s all just. _Mindless_ rutting, and yet it’s everything he’s ever craved. 

“Please!”

It’s Jim’s turn to beg and Chris automatically rolls them both, pinning the younger man beneath him but never letting go. His hair is tugged needily and he buries his face against the golden skin of that neck, panting.

His hand grows slicker as Jim keens again, precum from both of them mingling with sweat. Chris pushes Jim’s knees wider with his thighs, drops more of his weight onto his chest so that every movement drives him further into the mattress. 

Nails scrape down his own back now, and Chris’ rhythm stutters for a second. Jim gasps as their entwined hands fall out of sync between them, Chris’ fingers sliding downwards. Taking advantage of the accidental move, he curls it into a loose fist and pushes his knuckle hard against Jim’s perineum.

“Oh holy fuck,” Jim swears in a strangled voice, his head tipping back as his eyes rolling into his skull. 

Chris grins shamelessly into his neck. 

“I’m gonna-” Jim stutters as he keeps the pressure up. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard for that later.”

“God yes please,” Chris moans as they begin to move together as one again.

The hand on his back shifts and palms his ass, pushing down, begging silently for _yet more._

“Been watching you,” Jim stutters some more. “The way you look at me. Try to hide it from me, but- Wanted- wanted you so bad. Wanted to make you claim me. Knew you wouldn’t. Too nice, too kind. Tried anyway. Want to be yours!”

“You _are_ mine James,” Chris growls, headless of the cliché. Because it’s true. Now he’s had this taste, this _experience…_ he’s never going to give it up. _“Mine!”_

Jim whines beneath him again, and heat explodes between them as first Jim, and then Chris falls over the edge.

* * *

Chris knows he’s always been a clingy son of a bitch when he’s infused with post-coital glow. 

Today is no different.

They lie panting in a heap, Chris bonelessly sliding to one side so that most of his weight isn’t directly on Jim’s chest. He keeps an arm and a leg gripped around him though, and his face remains pleasantly pushed into his neck.

“That was,” Jim shudders as he turns his head to push his own face into the top of Chris’ head. “That was something else.”

“Mmmm,” Chris hums wordlessly as he smiles.

“Intense,” Jim continues weakly as his arm flops up around Chris’ back, his hand gently stroking up and down. “Just. _Intense.”_

“S’only frottage,” Chris slurs happily, trying to tease. “Very vanilla.”

“Best fucking frottage of my life, Jesus. I think I just had my first ever religious experience.”

“You. Talkative,” Chris chuckles.

“Sorry, can’t help it,” Jim says meekly, his shoulders tensing under Chris.

“No, s’good,” Chris protests. “S’impressive is all. Like it, but my brain melted.”

“I can see that,” Jim smiles fondly as he goes lax again. “Did you- Did you mean it though?”

“Hmm?” Chris hums inquisitively as he tips his chin up, seeking out those lips with his once more. Jim obliges, opening his mouth slowly, his tongue skating along the edge of Chris’ teeth.

“That I’m yours?” the younger man asks between gasps for breath and clumsy open-mouthed kisses. “Only. Only. I want that. I don’t like- I’m all or nothing. No strings or fully tied. Can’t- Can’t do in between. Not- not wired like that. Thought I could for you, but- too many emotions now. I need all of you.”

“Mine,” Chris rumbles, feeling his own voice reverb gravelly in his chest. “All or nothing.”

 _“Good,”_ Jim shudders as Chris shifts to nip along his jawline. “Want that. Want you. _Want all of you.”_

“Fifteen-minute nap,” Chris rumbles again as his brain begins to re-fog pleasantly. “’n then you’re gonna fuck me into the mattress so hard I can’t sit properly for most of next week.”

_Maybe this wasn’t so idiotic at all, _he grins to himself as Jim moans heatedly beneath him.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking for feedback as that's the first time I've ever written anything E-rated :)

**Author's Note:**

> eh, maybe i'll write more at some point.


End file.
